


again

by Kurosuke (cdra)



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdra/pseuds/Kurosuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shintaro remembers the repeating timelines, he remembers that he isn’t alone in that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	again

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr [here](http://setothebrave.tumblr.com/post/87430289234/title-again-summary-when-shintaro-remembers). Not really a shipping bit, but I totally ship it.

It was happening again. (it had happened so many times before.)

He can remember the first time – the second time, rather – when he suddenly begun to cry, when her eyes went wide and she asked “So, it wasn’t a dream?” – it wasn’t, because they both knew it to be real. He remembered holding her, saying he didn’t understand either, but surely things would be different this time. And sure enough, they were already different – even at that time they knew it, how the circumstances around their meeting had shifted, how before they had never had a moment alone together like this – yes, it was certainly not the same story.

Yet they would soon find it became part of the same tragedy. (spinning, helplessly repeating, this pitiful story.)

The third time, she came crying to him when they met, but he didn’t know what she was talking about. And she tried to remind him to no avail, and he pushed her away – and now he hates himself for that, for every time he ignored her, but he couldn’t have changed it. Because his memories aren’t like hers – they go away, reduced to subconscious noise, and hers simply fade, becoming dreams and visions until suddenly everything begins to line up and it becomes real and it becomes terrifying –

But he can see it wasn’t all bad – he can remember how she came to understand that his memory wasn’t like hers, and how she promised–even if you don’t remember me, I’ll try to take care of you, I’ll try to make everything work in that time too. And he wanted to say he didn’t need it, but it was already twenty times in, and he knew it was true, so he just sighed, rubbed his neck and agreed. And so there were times when they made paper flowers together and laughed, laughed like everything was normal–

– and the thirtieth time, they did just that in spite of their memories. (even if it happens again, let's find a little peace this time.)

Now it’s the umpteenth time – she keeps count in her nightmares, clinging to these moments of solace, but he can’t be sure how many times he’s forgotten anymore – and it hit him like a freight train; it always does. Fingernails scratch against the countertop and tears fall, red eyes zoned in on that image of her, that precious smile which reminds him of old happiness. But she’s there, the medusa who remembers, and she puts a delicate hand on his shoulder and he remembers her.

Without thinking, he embraces her.

She flinches – like him, she isn’t much used to human contact. No, perhaps it’s even worse for her, spending her whole life alone–but they’ve talked about it, they’ve laughed and bonded over how difficult humans are, and she understands. Yet, strangely, she reciprocates to this male who should be a stranger, somehow her companion in this repeating nightmare, frail arms gripping–she begins to cry, just a little, able to expose this emotion with someone who understands.

“We’ll definitely make it right this time.” (somehow, surely we've figured it out by now.)

A small laugh.

“…You say that every time.” (But I want to believe you, so let's.)


End file.
